


Then Again, Maybe "I Do"

by osmalic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-06
Updated: 2008-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-21 04:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osmalic/pseuds/osmalic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus and Severus are getting married during a major holiday--for very different reasons. (Also, they find out that Hermione Granger is a zealous and alarming wedding planner.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Then Again, Maybe "I Do"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snapesgirl_62](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=snapesgirl_62).



> I almost titled this fic _"One Day We'll Look Back at This and Ask 'What the Hell Were We Thinking?!'"_. Title wrangled from Judy Blume's book. Written Snupin Santa 2008.

It's a blustery November day in Diagon Alley when Severus and Remus agree to get married.

"It wasn't _romantic_ ," Severus tells Minerva, as if affronted by the word, when he informs her later that afternoon. "It's mutually beneficial."

"You sound like every bad prologue to those romances you confiscate from your students," Minerva tells him, eyeing him from the top of her thin-rimmed glasses. "Yet since it's you saying it, I suppose I should expect it to be true?"

Severus looks miffed that she suggests it. "Of course it is!"

"And all the things that happened in the past can be lightly forgotten?"

"No," Severus says, and takes time to sip his tea. "But surely they'll be overcome. Lupin is determined to take advantage of every law the Ministry has appended for werewolf rights, one of which is marriage."

"And so, what did you do?" Minerva asks staunchly. "Bumped into him while you were running errands, then asked him to marry you?"

"No, he asked me to marry him." Severus takes another sip.

"Oh," Minerva says, because what do you say to _that?_ She watches Severus, who watches her back, one eyebrow raised. She clears her throat and valiantly tries not to smile. _"Mutually beneficial_ indeed."

* * *

Lupin drops into his quarters around dinnertime, gesturing wildly. "I was thinking of a winter wedding," he blurts out just as Severus quite literally runs into him.

It takes Severus a few moments of rubbing the bruise on his shoulder and staring at him to register what Remus just said. "Winter wedding?" he repeats, just in case he misheard the other man. "It's only been...six hours since you've proposed and you're already planning?" Then his eyes narrows and he asks cautiously, "Or have you been planning the entire time?"

Lupin has the decency to look sheepish. "Well, I _have_ given it some thought," he admits, "but—"

"Wonderful." Severus throws up his arms and resumes his brisk walk. "If you have scrolls and magazine cut-outs of all those since we were in school, Lupin, I suggest that you throw them out. It takes two to have a wedding."

"And only one to plan them!" Lupin calls back impishly just as Severus rounds a corner.

* * *

Despite Severus' protests, there _is_ something appealing to a white wedding. Severus says so to Lupin while they sit in the Great Hall, talking about the legal documentations of several binding choices that Lupin brought home from his Ministry work.

Lupin beams. "I knew you'd like it," he says.

Severus shrugs. "It makes it easier for me to wear that wedding dress."

He waits, watches with precise satisfaction as Lupin freezes, the way his gaze turns up to him slowly, and how his mouth opens and closes several times before he manages to stammer out, _"Wedding dress?_ Skirt and lace?"

Severus nods. "And also white," he supplies when there seems to be nothing forthcoming from Lupin. There's another pause and Severus waves his wand to pour more tea for Lupin. "I'll show you the design next time, if you wish."

 _"—but,"_ Lupin starts protesting, but his face is turning redder and redder. His mouth is twitching as if he's eaten a bug but he doesn't want Severus to know. "I thought you'd be...I mean, we would both be wearing...I mean, dress robes are suitable...." His eyes are beginning to glaze and Severus feels he has to step in.

"Do you have any objections about me wearing a dress, Lupin?" he asks mildly, and waits for the other man to rethink this whole marriage business.

But Lupin only shakes his head, looking at him with heated eyes. "Of course not, Severus," he replies. Severus gulps loudly when he realises how husky Lupin's voice has become. "Of course, I'll be glad to rip them—"

"Christmas," Severus interrupts quickly, slamming some of the documents down on Lupin's hands. "I want to get married sometime around Christmas."

Just like that, Lupin's face turns from predatory to utter sap. "Not _during_ Christmas, I hope?" he objects. "Don't you think we deserve a separate celebration for our wedding and Christmas?"

"Christmas Eve, then," Severus breathes, and he can suddenly envision wrapping his hands around Lupin's and pulling him close to slide a golden wedding band in his finger....

"Perfect," Lupin's voice interrupts his train of thought. "I'll work on the arrangements. I was thinking of asking Minerva to preside—"

It takes Severus several minutes of choking and flailing before he can find suitable words to describe exactly what he thought of _that._

* * *

November is ending and the Headmistress appears insulted.

"I would have liked to preside over the wedding," she sniffs, a finger delicately curled around the handle of her teacup. "Heads of major schools have been presiding marriages since the Ministry of Magic allowed it—"

"—in 1478, I know," Severus interrupts with a bored tone. The minutes of the last faculty meeting is spread on the table before them, but it seems Minerva is hell-bent on ignoring them. "You'll get your chance, you old coot. There are almost a thousand students in this school, and half the female population is already thinking of asking you to officiate their weddings."

"So tell me," Minerva asks, leaning forward slightly, "why don't you want me for your wedding?"

Severus sneers at her, annoyed that she doesn't even flinch. "It's not even real," he mutters.

"Severus, you sit in my office and have the gall to insult my career—"

"The _wedding,"_ Severus clarifies loudly, not looking up. "It's not real. I told you before, Lupin's only doing this to exercise his right as a free werewolf, to thumb his nose against the Ministry he's working in. And I'm—"

"Yes, Severus?" Minerva interrupts, and her voice is as hard as steel. "You?"

The truth is, Severus may be able to look at Minerva in the eye, but she still manages to make him feel like the little boy swinging his skinny legs in Dumbledore's office while she complains about Slytherins being out of their beds during midnight. "Mutally beneficial for both of us," he grounds out, and tries not to feel guilty at the flash in her eyes.

* * *

December ushers in a very enthusiastic Remus Lupin pounding on his quarters, yelling, "Severus! I want to see your dress!"

Severus pulls him through the door, glaring at an early student who eyes them with interest before he slams the door shut. Lupin has a huge grin plastered on his face. "What the _hell_ are you doing here?" he hisses.

Lupin laughs instead, pushes him back and shows him the battered briefcase he's lugging around. "You didn't want Minerva to officiate, so I asked someone else without consulting you, if you don't mind," he says in a rush. And before Severus can ask, Lupin shouts, "I got the Minister of Magic!"

"Shacklebolt?" Severus rolls his eyes. "Of course he'll agree, you dolt. He's the one who championed for the rights of non-human beings and got you a job in the Ministry."

"He's a very busy man, you know," Lupin tells him, grabbing his hands and squeezing. "But he's clear for Christmas Eve although he has to deliver an on-air speech right after."

Severus smiles thinly. "I'm glad you got an important man to preside over the wedding," he says.

Lupin seems to compose himself, peering at him curiously. "It's not only that, Severus," he replies. "The Minister...Kingsley is our _friend._ He was our colleague, and he's been a great help for both of us."

Severus catches himself trembling at the memories right after the War: trapped in Azkaban with a persisting but slow-moving poison in is system. When Weasley (whichever one of them, Severus cannot remember) recognised the effects, it was Shacklebolt who pushed for medication within the few crucial hours when no one else would have bothered. Perhaps Severus should be more grateful.

"I'm glad," he manages to grit out, and part of it is even true.

Lupin is staring at him again, a strange look in his eyes, but he laughs and tugs Severus' hand. There's a warm jolt in Severus' stomach when he realises they never let go the entire time. "So where's the dress?" he asks, making a careful movement of looking around. "I don't see it here."

Severus clucks his tongue. "You'll get to see me wearing it on the day of the wedding," he admonishes.

Lupin waggles his eyebrow— _lewdly._ Severus stares at him in horrified fascination. "I can't wait," he proclaims huskily, and gives Severus' hands another squeeze.

That's when it hits Severus for the first time.

 _He's marrying Remus Lupin._

* * *

"I'm marrying Remus Lupin," Severus announces to his seventh-year class.

The only sound is the flitting of pixie wings from one of the cages. Eighteen pairs of eyes stare at him in horror and Severus glares back, suddenly feeling ill.

Hermione Granger's hand raises like a shot. "Who'll be your best man?" she asks, without waiting for her name to be called. "Or will you adhere to the non-gendering efforts and pick a best woman?"

"I'm going to be _sick,"_ Potter groans, holding himself against Weasley's frozen form. "Ron—Ron, get out of the way, _I need to vomit."_

"Or a bridesmaid? When will the marriage be?" Granger wants to know. "What kind of bonding will you have? I've read up on the different types of bonds that can be made, from promissory to simple civil—"

Severus stalks out of the classroom.

* * *

"There is apparently more to this marriage business than I previously thought," Severus hisses when he enters the Headmistress's room.

Minerva sends him a pointed look. "Severus, I am currently evaluating the performance of the faculty. I'd like to tell you that you've just failed a quarter of the requirements."

"Why should I go through the trouble?" Severus shouts. "Shouldn't there be ready-made weddings nowadays, especially when there are too many people getting married? _Sometimes nine times?"_

An uncomfortable silence descends over them, and Minerva looks down at her evaluation scrolls, then back at Severus. "You're panicking."

"Of course I'm..." Severus stops. "Not. Panicking. It merely surprised me that...Lupin seems serious."

"What did you think?" Minerva asks curiously. "That Remus would randomly ask strangers walking in Diagon Alley to marry him?"

Severus has thought that, yes. It's just luck Remus ran into _him._

* * *

If Severus Snape has ever indulged himself in meaningless emotions that will never bear any fruit with regards to his personality and decisions, it would be his small-yet-giddy-admiration for Remus Lupin. This small-yet-giddy-admiration for Remus Lupin occurred when they were twelve years old, reaching for the same book in the library, trading insults that would put Potter to shame, before the insults turned philosophical.

Severus is sure they ended up alternately discussing and lambasting childish theories. It seemed exciting then, but annoyingly mundane now.

It was just a simple admiration for someone who shared his limited interests. They disappeared almost entirely by the time they reached fourth year, utterly destroyed in their sixth year.

It's not that Severus never had friends. He's had those children he used to play with near the factory of his old home, and there were Slytherin groups who even let him joined.

But there had been no-one Severus had ever wanted to be with, and no-one had tolerated his presence for long, and there had only ever been that sickening obsession with Voldemort.

And there was also Lily Evans, who was sweet, kind, and friendly. Every bit of unattainable as Remus Lupin ever was.

* * *

"We got the invitation," Granger tells Severus seriously a few minutes before their class. "So now we have to move."

"Pardon?" Severus growls. He wants to ever forget laying his eyes on her.

But Granger will hear no such thing. Despite legally being an adult returning to retake the entire year she missed, Severus still sees that eleven-year-old first year frantically trying to get everyone to notice her brain. "We all got the invitation to your wedding," she clarifies briskly. "I've overheard that Ron and Harry are determined to give Remus a bachelor's party."

"I will not be attending something that Potter and Weasley have concocted together," Severus says, affronted.

Granger rolls her eyes. "I _know._ Which is why I've grabbed Malfoy so it won't _all_ be Harry and Ron's decisions, yeah?"

Severus peers behind her and, for the first time, notices that lanky Draco Malfoy is cowering behind her back, looking dazed and shocked—probably by Granger's fast talking. He sighs. "There's no escaping this, is there?" he asks, putting his head in his hands.

"So tell me, Professor," Granger says cheerfully, all-business, "what do you feel about strippers?"

* * *

"For the record," Lupin says when the bachelors' party has begun, "I didn't actually agree to any of this."

Severus scowls, finds himself crowded on the bench next to his fiancé. "Neither did I."

The sheer variety of visitors crammed in Kingsley Shacklebolt's upgraded flat is enough to make Severus dizzy. Not only did some of their colleagues from Hogwarts arrive, but there were also people they knew from the Order of the Phoenix. And students—at least, the ones who are already declared adults in wizarding laws.

Ginevra Weasley, however, should not be dancing that close to both Nymphadora Tonks and Blaise Zabini.

"Please tell me they didn't order strippers," Lupin pleads, pressing his lips against Severus' ear.

Severus jumps, splashing some of his Fire Whiskey on his robes. "If I had any hand at this party, I would be drinking something with more taste," he snaps. He tells himself the shiver running down his spine is due to Lupin's proximity.

Whether it's a good thing or a bad thing is anyone's guess.

Someone is shouting while sounds blast a younger generation's song. Severus looks up angrily to see Lupin staring at him. "What?"

"Nothing," Lupin says, then laughs. "We're getting married in two weeks."

The slow burn in Severus' stomach is likely due to the Fire Whiskey. "We still have to work on some documents," he mutters. "Our living arrangements—"

Lupin presses impossibly closer, hand clapping Severus' thigh. "We'll talk about that soon," he murmurs, laying his chin on Severus' shoulder. "And you promised me you'll show me the wedding dress, remember?"

"Lupin," Severus says, horrified to realise his voice is a whisper.

"And—" Lupin's arm snakes around his waist. "—I want to know if you'll be shy and virginal on our wedding night."

Good _lord,_ the party has just started and Lupin is already drunk! Severus places a restraining arm on Lupin's chest, awkwardly trying to push him away but not really succeeding. Not wanting to. Lupin's face is so close to his....

 _"Strippers!"_ one of the Weasleys roars and an enormous cake that Severus has somehow missed suddenly explodes—with much fireworks and loud sounds—before a trail of half-naked men and women dances and performs a musical.

"They're not strippers, that's a _carnival,"_ Severus protests despite himself.

Lupin tucks his face against Severus' neck, and it takes Severus several moments to realise that he is laughing.

* * *

Severus supposes there should be a fitting punishment for refusing to let Minerva preside over his wedding. Granger was enough to make him re-evaluate his karmic fate.

Somehow, she's managed to convince Lupin that it is in their best interest to have her make all the decisions. In hindsight, Severus should have figured that she's compensating for...something. Even Lupin is strangely fascinated and horrified at the bullheaded methods she uses to tackle the plans in record time.

Weasley and Potter appear keen to apologize, even though their presence has Severus seething.

"It's a mental problem," Potter mourns. "She wants everything to be in place."

"Are you sure she's not...compensating?" Lupin eyes Weasley warily as if he may be the one to blame, and Severus feels a rush of strange affection for the man he's about to marry. It seems they may share the same apprehension when it comes to crazy teenagers.

Weasley seems to catch their thoughts because he raises his arms. "I'm one-hundred percent uninvolved in this," he protests. "You know how irrational she becomes when everything isn't perfect and you just _had_ to let her know that no one else was planning the wedding, didn't you?"

"She seemed _perfectly sane that time,"_ Lupin rationalizes.

"Christmas Eve wedding," Potter is moaning. "You'll get sick of all the glittering angels she plans on hanging in the corridor. And your _reception."_

"It's not too late to elope," Weasley tells them hopefully, even giving Snape a smile.

Severus catches Lupin's eyes and almost feels something making his mouth twitch. He manages to sneer at them. "You get what you rightly deserve for calling her your friend," he mutters.

"It's still _your wedding,"_ Potter retorts. It's a low blow.

Lupin's fingers intertwine with Severus', tugging him closer. "I think I'm going to enjoy it," he declares, changing his mind.

Then Granger barges in, eyes wild and her hair in fizzled disarray, with Malfoy trailing dutifully behind her. She waves her arms crazily. "I need to see the _wedding dress,"_ she insists. "I'm having Draco draw up the colour scheme and we have _ideas."_

Potter and Weasley immediately pale and make their excuses.

Severus catches the small grin on Lupin's face and wonders what they did to put it there.

* * *

They're sitting in Severus' quarters, trying to decide on which magical bond would be better, and rehashing on the legalities that should be covered before the actual wedding. The days have turned progressively colder, and Severus thinks about how last year, things had been desperate and different. Now, he's sitting in his room with his fiancé, and nervously looking for a way to tell Lupin that he doesn't really want magical bonding.

But Lupin looks satisfied, sinking in the ratty armchair that Severus brought from his old home. "You know," he says thoughtfully, "we'll have to think about finding a different house."

"What's wrong with yours?" Severus asks. They've decided to move into Remus' small house after the honeymoon in France, and let Severus commute through Floo everyday.

Lupin merely shrugs. "Nothing, except I rented the house with only myself in mind. Now that there's two of us..." He looks across the table and smiles.

"You're being sentimental, Lupin," Severus mutters, but there's a warm glow in his chest.

"You know," Lupin says softly, "we're getting married next week. Shouldn't you start calling me ‘Remus'?"

Severus glares at him. "I'll call you whatever I want, _dog breath,"_ he snarls, but it only makes Lupin laugh. It figures that Lupin finds this entire event amusing when it's messing with Severus' mind.

"I want something that belongs to both us," Lupin tells him. "Don't you want a new beginning?"

"I don't think it's..." Severus pauses, horrified to realise that he's starting to pull his guards down, and he sits back on his chair, watching Lupin with narrowed eyes.

Lupin sighs. "Severus. It's going to be a start, and I know it might be hard, but we have to work together."

Severus wants to explain that he likes the idea of starting over very much, even if starting over means doing it with someone he thought he's hated since childhood. Still, he figures that only one of them has to be the emotional figure in this relationship, and Lupin's already in it to show the Ministry of Magic a thing or two about werewolf rights. That's were all the passion should go.

"We'll...manage somehow," Severus says carefully. "After all, it's not like Granger is going to impose on our entire lives, and we'll be able to make decisions soon. I think." He doesn't like to think about Granger being a permanent factor in their decisions.

Lupin pales. "I certainly hope not," he declares. "I seriously don't know why we're still going along with this."

Suddenly, it feels like the room isn't warm enough, as if the heating charms have stopped working and the entire winter blows into the room. Severus struggles to make his voice casual, "We still have a little over a week. If you wish to back out now, I won't hold it against you."

Lupin laughs. "Back out? Why would I—"

"I meant," Severus cuts in carefully, reading the scroll on top of the thick pile, "if you wish to find some other way to shove your rights at the Ministry's faces, then you can do so in another way." The scroll he's reading is saying something about forced bonds through a specific rite of whispered words and blood-artifacts exchange. The words make him wince.

When a full minute passes where Lupin continues to stay silent, Severus finally looks up. Lupin is staring at him with a face that either says he's disappointed, or that he has a case of indigestion. "You think...the wedding is all about that?"

"Isn't it?" Severus stares at him. "It's what _I_ would have done."

There's another awkward silent moment, and Severus wants to rush and tell him that it doesn't matter one bit to him, that he's never even thought to marry before, let alone find someone who'll ask him especially after the War. However, what comes out of his mouth is, "Is something matter?"

"No." Lupin seems to snap out of his trance and is already gathering documents as quickly as he can, stuffing them in his arms. Severus frowns, moves to help him, but Lupin interjects tersely, "No, Severus, I'll—" And in a blink, he is hurrying out of the room.

"I'll expect an Owl from you this weekend regarding the bonds, Lupin," Severus calls.

* * *

Lupin does not send an Owl that weekend nor during the subsequent days. It alarms Severus—only mildly—just enough that he racks his memory and even takes the time to review them in his Pensieve, he gets nothing.

Finally, he sends Lupin his own message that consists mostly of, _What the hell is going on and tell me if you still want to get married,_ before he stalks back to his quarters.

He catches sight of Granger and Malfoy heading towards him and he groans, turns to his heel. Apparently, they also catch sight of him, because Granger starts to give chase, yelling, "Professor! Professor!"

Severus finally finds himself cornered by five fallen knight statues that conveniently block the middle of the hallway. He turns to face Granger. "What do you want?"

Surprisingly, it is Malfoy who speaks first. "Professor," he says loudly, "why did Lupin call off the engagement?"

Somewhere ahead, it seems another knight statue has crashed, and Filch's cursing can be heard bouncing along the halls. Severus stares at them. "Lupin never told me."

"Well he told _us,"_ Granger rages. "And I have to say, Professor, I am _extremely disappointed."_ She manages to take a few deep breaths before apparently noticing that something is wrong. "Um. Professor Snape. Is everything...alright?"

"Yes," Severus says faintly. He's been expecting this, of course, and he just _sent_ Lupin the message, but still...he didn't... "Yes, of course, Miss Malfoy, Mister Granger."

"It's the other way around, sir," one of them murmurs, and Severus thinks it's Malfoy.

"Well," Severus says, struggling to get his composure back, "I'll have to contact Remus about...the plans. What to do instead. You should have included a possible fall-out in your plan, Miss Granger."

"Oh, _Professor,"_ Granger's voice says, and it's so full of _pity_ that it makes Severus want to throw up.

Instead, he hurries past them and returns to his room.

* * *

It's not Potter's angry hints, nor Weasley's suspicious looks. It's not even Granger's stupidly pitying looks, nor Malfoy's sad pout.

Strangely enough, what sends Severus to the edge is Minerva's cool indifference.

"I expected it," she admits, shrugging when Severus finally can't help it and yells at her. "You can't deny that you and Remus are jumping at a marriage based on a flimsy idea."

"They're perfectly legitimate!" Severus insists.

Minerva rolls her eyes. "Oh, yes," she replies sarcastically. "You're marrying Remus because you think you have nothing else. And he's marrying you because he wants to prove something. That's a very healthy relationship. Trust me, Severus, I've seen marriages fail based on less."

"But we were doing fine," Severus protests. "It would have been alright to proceed, even if he doesn't really want..."

"I don't know why I bother opening this school," Minerva interrupts crossly. "It's evident none of you learn things, even after all the compulsory education given to you. And none of you bother to learn new things anyway."

"What?" Severus feels insulted.

"I mean," Minerva tells him slowly, "that you may have learned how to defend yourself for war during the past thirty years, but none of you actually know a thing about talking to someone you might learn to love."

* * *

Lupin opens the door, wearing tattered robes and a resigned look. "Good day, Severus," he says. "How may I—"

"Shut it, Lupin." Severus pushes past him and crosses his arm, watching carefully as Lupin closes the door behind him. "You could have at least had the balls to tell me in person. Or sent me a message."

Lupin shrugs. "I thought you would appreciate my tactics," he mutters.

"No, you thought wrong." Severus pauses. "We're getting married in less than a week so you—"

"We're not, Severus," Lupin interrupts. "We're both...operating under some strange misunderstanding. We both rushed into getting married without even thinking of building a relationship. I don't...." He blows out a breath, fidgets, and looks as if he's waiting for Severus to interrupt him, but he finally says, tiredly, "I don't know your favourite colour, I don't know how you'd rather eat your pasta, and I certainly don't know why you said yes when I asked you to marry me."

Severus is silent for a long time, thinking about it. He never thought that those might become important when having a marriage—look at Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's successful marriage. Still, Lupin is not Lucius, and Severus...well, he's certainly _not_ Narcissa Black.

"Fair enough," he sighs. He watches how Lupin seems to droop, his shoulders actually falling as he leans on the door. "Still, we're not young anymore Lupin, and we certainly know how to talk about our problems."

"Could have fooled me," Lupin mutters.

Severus grimaces. "Well. We're certainly not above mistakes, but I at least acknowledge if... _when_ I make them." He feels stripped of his defenses, and there's probably nothing that will save the wedding, but he wants to save what honour he still has. "I always thought we'll have the rest of our lives getting to know each other more."

Lupin's head jerks up and his eyes begin to widen. "You don't even—"

"Know you?" Severus interrupts.

"Love me," Lupin interjects, his voice cracking.

They stare at each other for a very long time, and Severus finds his arms falling at his sides. He didn't expect this, and he didn't think—

"Because I do," Lupin rushes to say when Severus doesn't say anything. "I...at least, I've _liked_ you, and I've always entertained this thought when I was younger...that I might meet you, bump into you while I'm walking down the street, and I'll ask you for a drink and you'll say yes. And then the war happened, and then it finished, and then I bumped into you while I was walking down the street and I. Asked you. To marry me." He finishes with his face red. "And you said yes."

"Did you...." Severus pauses, cursing the delicate situation. He doesn't want to mess this up by making wrong decisions. "So is it...a fantasy of some sort? Did I pass your test?" His voice sounds harsh.

Lupin's eyes widen and he points a finger, saying loudly, "I don't even know _why_ you said yes!"

"I thought you wanted to get back at the Ministry for all those laws that they made against werewolves," Severus admits.

"Why would you say yes if that was what you thought?" Lupin asks, waving wildly. "How can _anyone_ say yes to a marriage proposal with that in mind?"

"I said yes because I want to marry you, you bastard," Severus spits out.

"Even if you thought I only wanted to marry you because of those stupid laws?"

"Especially then!" Severus shouts. "I don't care to get married because of things such as emotions that you may not have for me!"

"Well, I _do!"_ Lupin yells. "I have feelings for you, I always have and..." He pauses, takes a deep breath and they stare at each other, eyes wide. "Do you...Severus, do _you_ have feelings for me, too?" His voice hitches, as if unable to wait for an answer.

"I do," Severus says, surprising himself.

They keep staring at each other, very, very silent. Then Lupin straightens, walks away from the door and towards Severus. "Well," he says, holding out a hand towards him, "we have exactly five days to see if we actually want to get through with it."

"And what about the wedding preparations?" Severus asks cautiously, eyeing Lupin's hand with some distaste.

Lupin grins, and maybe it's not the giddy happiness that was there before, but something clearer. "That's why we have Hermione," he says.

Severus gives a bark of laughter, does not let himself hesitate any further, and reaches out to grab Lupin's hand.

* * *

They both realise it's a mistake to let Hermione Granger and her assistants handle the wedding on the actual day itself.

"Why is there a choir of House Elves?" Lupin whispers to him when they meet in front of Kingsley Shacklebolt to exchange vows.

"Why are they dressed as angels?" Severus asks in horror, trying not to look at the ghastly sight.

It's traumatic enough that they keep their eyes on each other during the entire time, but Severus decides it wasn't much of a sacrifice. Lupin was wearing modern dress robes that cut smartly over his figure, and he looked dishevelled and a little dazed, as if he still can't believe they're going through with it. Severus catches himself reaching out to brush a stray lock away from Lupin's face, then frowning at the delighted look on Lupin's face.

Kingsley guides them through the civil rites, coaxing them in case they forget something. They both fumble in their _"I do's"_ and Draco and Harry—the _ir_ respective best men in the wedding—managed to hand them their rings without any problem. Hermione Granger looks like she's waiting for a large slip-up, glaring at everything while clutching her wand. Someone in the audience gives a hoot and Severus sends Nymphadora Tonks a glare. She waves her wand and draws a heart in the air, grinning.

When they kiss, their lips press chastely against each other, and they move to pull away only Lupin's hand on Severus' waist tightens and he pulls him closer again.

"Are you wearing a _corset?"_ he hisses at Severus' ear, just as the choir of House Elves bursts into song.

Severus' lips twitches and he sways his hip closer, lets Lupin's fingers tangle with the mesh of his winter wedding gown. "Maybe," he says. "Do you like them?"

"I'd like them better if I see them," Lupin growls, then hauls Severus into his arms, carrying him through the crowd cheering them despite Severus' demands for him to be let down.

* * *

Later, after they've dined at the reception, greeted their guests, and thanked Hermione for her hard work, Lupin leans closer to Severus and says seriously, "I'm glad you decided on having a civil rite instead."

Severus nods, his hand automatically covering his left wrist. Although the Dark Mark has gone, the sleeves of his dress still feel like a cover to a big secret.

Then a large hand reaches out to wrap around his wrist, and Severus looks up at Lupin in surprise. He is smiling. "Maybe in a couple of years," Lupin says softly, "we'll look into other bindings that won't be too restrictive."

Severus peers at his eyes, then recognises that it's not a question, but a statement. Something to hope for. Something shared. Something given, and not even just in the spirit of the Christmas Holiday.

In those years, they'll likely learn more about themselves and each other, and either they'll be sick of each other or have grown closer. Either way, it's nice to think that they have choices now, and that they can have whatever they want—all easily within reach. It feels like the best gift he can ever get.

Severus puts a hand over his husband's, sees the golden band glinting on both their fingers. Lupin looks surprised, then pleased. He shifts closer.

"I'd be honoured to marry you again, Remus," Severus says truthfully.


End file.
